That Place
by Antagonist
Summary: [AU, shounen ai] He hated it there, he really did. However, someone arrives to drastically change Guy Kutolah's life...
1. Jolly band of psycho's

First fic, and all that jazz. I think I need a beta, so... o-o E-mail me if you're interested. Oh, this is Guy's POV, first person. Pairings list at the bottom, because I'm an impatient person. Even though they're rather obvious. And, see, I'd have more stuff to put here, but that hobo stole it all. Don't hit the hobo, though. He just wants a cracker.

No, I don't own Fire Emblem. Be nice if I did. ;-; See, now you've made me sad. Shoo, read the fic, and leave me to drown in my self pity. -angstangst-

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Out of all of us, Wil knows the most about this place. Because, even though he's in here for severe schizophrenia, we think that almost all of his various moods are extremely talkative. It's not really surprising that he's the institutes main gossip, and probably the cheeriest out of everyone here. It's also not that amazing that he can weasel anything out of anyone, including the doctors. I guess that would be something to be proud of, because the staff here seems to be extremely cautious about telling us anything at all. 

His manipulative abilities also means he's managed to look at a lot of our files. Supposedly, I, Guy Khutolah, am here for my tempermental and violent ways, and my extreme paranoia. I swear, I'm not paranoid. They just don't believe me when I say someone's watching me. There's always someone there, I know there is... Maybe because of my tendency to hurt anyone who gets me upset, I have no roommate. And I'm rather glad of this. I like the silence, the quiet, and the lack of anything to disturb me. That means I can pace around the relatively small room as much as I want, and no one can give me weird looks or tell me to stop it. Though, that also gives the staff justification to keep better tabs on me, because I'm alone. Not that I care, someone's always following me.

There's things about this place that just kind of make you want to submit to all their supposed 'treatments', something that makes you want to give up. It sucks most of your personality out of you. Probably due to the fact that it's all white here. Everything's white; the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the sheets... That accursed blankness stretches throughout the entire building, it presses in on you until you think you can't take it anymore, and will do anything to get out. They think that will make you crack.

...Pfft. What do they know? Most of us are too proud to do something like that, and there's always that one thing that we can hold on to... I suppose that for me, it's my hair. I keep it in a braid, an immaculate, long, green plait. Generally, they wouldn't allow you to have long hair, because hair is something to strangle yourself with. But I don't have suicidal tendencies (a lot of us don't), and I blatantly refused to let them cut my hair when I came here, so they let me keep it. It's the only bit of me that I have left, the one thing that I can cling on to and use to remind myself that the normal Guy is still in there somewhere, he's just buried beneath all the crap they put us through...

It also distinguishes me. Otherwise, apart from our features and body build and things like that, we all look the same. Clean, white, short sleeved t-shirts, and white linen pants. We aren't allowed to wear shoes, so must of us don't even bother with wearing socks, but I do. The tile floors are cold. Anyways, I guess that being able to keep some semblance of my former self helps me remember that defiance that always flares up inside me. The one bit of my original personality that refused to curl and die, to admit defeat.

I guess that also sparked my slight pyromania. It gives me a perverse pleasure to know that, by coming here, they didn't cure me of anything (not that I need to be cured), but only managed to mess me up even more. Because my lack of originality seemed to inspire a curious lust for flames, fire is something I can now relate to. This also meant that they moved me up to a more secure ward once I managed to setthe sheets in my old room ablaze. God, that was satisfying. Seeing that horribly perfect, white cloth go up in smoke, seeing the tawny colors light up my otherwise blank room with a warmth that I wish I could find again, that was something I quite enjoyed. I also liked destroying the institute's property.

Of course, there's others here, too. There's Wil, who I've already mentioned before. He's got severe schizophrenia and a side of just general insanity. From what we've seen so far, there are four sides to Wil. His emo, horribly morbid and depressing persona, which we just refer to as emo. Even in that kind ofstate, he's really good at rambling. But he starts to talk about death and never being able to escape, and the only person who can stand being around him at these times are Rath. You'll hear more about him later. Anyways, there's also normal Wil. Wil is one of the few who has managed to maintain his normal self, and Wil's original personality can ramble on about ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for hours on end. It also means he's probably hyper, and this is when he's at his happiest. Rath seems to like this side of Wil, and is much better at putting up with the long strings of nonsense that come from his roommate than everyone else is able to.

Thoughtful, quirky Wil is probably who I cantolerate and not be driven insane by for the longest amount of time. When Wil is in this mode, he's a lot more quiet, and sort of apathetic. He'll stare at nothing in particular for a little bit, but then he'll get on about one thing, and start talking to the nearest person about whatever it was he was contemplating. Surprisingly, Wil has come across some interesting points when he's like this, and everyone agrees that it's a good idea to listen to whatever he's saying. Though, I can't stand the endless chatter, and eventually just leave.

Wil's only demeanor that actually doesn't need to be told to shut up is his violent one. He's notin his violentnearly as often as all of his other personalities, but when he does revert to his sadistic, violent mode, you better run. He seems to find that actions speak louder than words, and will glare at you for absolutely no reason. Glare back, and you'll most likely get something thrown at you. Or, if there's a lack of suitable objects, he'll punch you.

Violent Wil is, needless to say, slightly scary. Mainly because I tend to only provoke him even more, and get myself hurt in the process. Ah, well. And then there's Wil's roommate, Rath. Wil is the closest thing to a friend Rath has, because Rath is perpetually mute. (Most of the time, at least. I think I've seen him talk to Wil once or twice, but even then it was only a few words.) Rath is sometimes kind of eerie, since he's so silent. He broods a lot, too, and seems to be good at angsting. We can only guess that he's dwelling on some sort of tragic past he had. When I say 'guess', it's because he won't talk to any of the doctors or staff, and not much is known about him. Though, he is really tolerant of other people.

And then, we come to Karel. He's probably the most dangerous out of all of us here, and is, in fact, suicidal. Though, this doesn't explain why they let him keep his hair so long… I never could understand that. In any case, he's one messed up guy. Karel is constantly murmuring something about 'the feast'. From what I've gleamed from this, he's planning all of our imminent deaths, and everyone just sort of keeps away from him. Like me, he has no roommate, most likely because no one is willing to stay in the general vicinity of him for such a long amount of time. He really is dangerous; at one point in time, he managed to acquire a ballpoint pen, and severely injured one of the members of the staff here. Don't scoff, anything that's sharp and in Karel's possession is lethal. Including a pen. And no one is even sure how he managed to get said pen, since they don't even allow pencils or anything here. Only crayons. Tch.

Another member of our jolly group of psycho's (can't you just FEEL the sarcasm seeping through the monitor?) is Legault. That man is a pervert. Seriously. While being a pervert doesn't give them a reason for them to toss you in the loony bin, being an egoistic former gang member /does/. Legault is very charismatic, you always know when he's there, and he's probably dangerous, as well. Then again, to be in the Black Fang, you probably had to be skilled at… well, killing people. His roommate, Heath, shares something in common with me. At least, he would, if I actually were extremely paranoid. Which I'm not, by the way. They just refuse to listen to me. Heath is really skittish, however, and you constantly see him tagging around with Legault. Whether it's by choice, or if he's forced to follow the ex-Fang, no one is quite sure. Though, Heath seems relatively normal, or as normal as you can get when you live in a mental institution.

Idly, I wonder at how nice the silence is. I don't think I could put up with having to room with someone, I'd eventually just snap and try to strangle them. There's always something about /every single person around me/ that just… irks me. Whether it's because they're fidgeting, or they're being too quiet, my subconscious always seems to be able to find some reason for me to glare angrily at someone.

Not that I'm complaining, of course. I just wish I had something to vent my restless anger and frustrationinto. But there's absolutely nothing to do around here. It's very, very… dull. The only thing which I find mildly entertaining is sitting here, and just thinking. I have so much free time, that I've been able to think about a lot of things. Often, I wonder what's going on in the outside world. I also try to remember what it's like to be just an average person. Just a normal teenager, one of the people in the crowd that you don't really find the need to look at. I wouldn't mind being the typical teen, as long as it meant that I was out of this dreadfully boring place. Though, I guess that, at the same time, I would hate being like everyone else.

…Sometimes, I confuse myself.

Suddenly, I snap my head up from the table, warily glancing around. Generally, it's unusual for me to fall into a reverie like that, but I shrug the thought away. I stand up from the single chair I had been sitting in, and since all the furniture is bolted to the floor, there's no need to shove it back into place. Anxiously, I start to pace, frowning slightly as I ponder something. What was that noise?... I tense my shoulders, glaring viciously at the door. It's probably just one of the nurses. They're supposed to give us our medicines at routine intervals, but I avoid the pills whenever I can. I'd bet anything the capsules are laced with sedatives or something of the sort.

Inwardly, I'm praying that it isn't Serra. That woman is enough to drive /anyone/ over the little line that separates sanity and insanity. Well, it would be enough, if most of us weren't already insane. Honestly, though, she's just… annoying. She has this high pitched voice, and tends to get over excited, and those bright pink pigtails… Urgh. They're /pink/ Generally, I wouldn't mind being able to see a color like that, since it's so blank and devoid of emotion in here, but on her, it just makes me want to gouge my eyes out and curl up on the floor to die. I don't even know why they made her a nurse. She's too loud to be working at a mental institution.

With a suspicious slant to my blue-green, normally wide eyes, I edge towards the door, my footsteps slow and nearly silent, except for the soft shuffle of my padded feet across the tile floor. The doorknob turns, and I almost flinch in a somewhat startled manner. Yeah, just one of the nurses, most likely... A chiding little voice in my head tells me there's no reason for one of the nurses to come to my room at this time, because it would mess up the schedule. I ignore aforementioned voice, in favor stepping backwards slightly, and getting ready to dart for my bed, because it's the nurse, I just know it is, and she wants me to take some kind of medicine.

Oh, how wrong I was.

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Pairings! Oh, the fun we will have. 

Matthew/Guy, Rath/Wil, and Heath/Legault. Karel's just... there. Tell me if you'd like to see any other people added in. And 'scuse the short chapter. This was kind of just an informative... thing.


	2. Sleep?

Suteneko-chan pointed out something which I feel really stupid for. o O; Cripes, I can't even get my stuff right. Wil doesn't have schizophrenia. What he has, my friends, would be multiple personality disorder. Many times over, I'm very sorry. o o;

Anyways, with that out of the way, lykewhoamigosh it's the second chapter. Procrastination, ahoy. I found a new anime to watch, Bleach, and that, among other things, has been eating my time.

And, thanks for the reviews. n n

Made me feel quite nice to know that people like it so far.

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It would seem my suspicions were right. 

...How I wish I could say that. Well, they were half-way right, in any case. The doorknob jiggled a little bit more (I swear to God it was MOCKING ME), and swung open, to admit entrance to one of the members of the staff here. Oh, no. /Why/ did it have to be Serra, Serra never helped anything... She fixed me with a cheery look, and I merely glared in return. Of course, she was rather used to this kind of treatment, and shrugged off my less-than-friendly reaction, stepping forward a little more. My response was to back up cautiously. At this point, I couldn't help but be forcibly reminded of some kind of wild animal that had just been cornered by pest control. Pest control with a very large and dangerous gun... No, really, I hated taking those /evil/ pills. Serra sighed in exasperation, considering the fact that I was still glaring and looked like I was ready to bolt, but this was somewhat at odds with the way she winked at me.

"Hee. You're a nervous little thing, aren't you?"

A growl formed in the back of my throat, because I was highly indignant at being referred to like that. Unfortunately, however, Serra knew me quite well, and she stood her ground, continuing to appear annoyingly joyful. The pink haired nurse then stepped aside with an overdramatic flourish, and, in spite of myself, I found some of my anger fading away, to be replaced by a new-found curiousity. What did she mean by that...? I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know.

"I present to you... Your new roommate."

I blinked profusely, attempting to register what Serra had just said. As the full meaning of her words managed to sink in to my mind, I could only watch helplessly (Okay, maybe not helplessly...) as someone entered the room.

Okay, let's pause for a second, because I was /pissed/. How could they just randomly shove someone into my room, when they knew very well that there were specific reasons I liked to be left alone? Ooh, there would be hell to pay for this... I'd work out how to exact my revenge later. Anyways...

I hated him from the moment he walked in. That annoyingly knowing smirk, and the way he carried himself, and those deviously slanted eyes... He just STRUTTED in here like he owned the damn place. I'd have to fix that, once Serra left. Almost as if she had known what I was thinking at that moment in time, the nurse waggled a finger at me, as if reprimanding a naughty child.

"Don't even think about trying to hurt him. We've got your room wired."

I swore under my breath, as she gestured to one of the cameras mounted on the ceiling. Of course, the fact that they were watching me wouldn't stop any of my... violent intentions. That just meant I'd have to be quick about it. Trying to seem nonchalant, I let my wide green eyes wander back over to... him. He had very ruffled, sandy blonde colored hair. He was also exceptionally taller than me, but I tried to ignore the thought. Then, the stranger seemed to deem it fit to introduce himself to me.

"The name's Matthew Ostia."

He reached out a hand, obviously waiting for me to shake it, but I was too busy gagging at how cliched he had sounded. Pfft. I tilted myself away from him, declining the offer in a rather rude fashion, and staring determinedly at the wall after doing so. And what a fascinating wall it was... Serra shifted from one foot to the other in the ensuing awkward silence, and tenatively began to back away towards the door, trying to seem discreet. Meanwhile, Matthew had dropped his hand in a resigned manner, before giving me a looking over. Since I was examining the blank stretch of wall in front of me, I didn't catch how my supposed room mate was staring at me, though I did notice that Serra was about to leave the room, considering that she wasn't all that skilled at being inconspicious...

I danced inwardly at this. The pink haired nurse lingered in the doorway for a moment, casting a few faintly worried looks between Matthew and myself, before closing the door. I heard the distinct 'click' of aforementioned door being locked, and I shuffled back over to my bed. Sitting down on the edge, and swinging my legs back and forth, I allowed my gaze to wander back over to Matthew. He took a few more steps into the room, before seating himself in /my/ chair. I bit back a growl at this, instead maintaining my lack of speech,and merely continuing to glare at him.

Damn him, he just seemed AMUSED by the entire thing. He crossed his arms, and slouched a little more, only intensifying the nonchalant air he was currently exuding. I scowled at him, before almost haughtily turning away once again. He chose this moment to speak.

"You're not very friendly, are you?"

I didn't even have to look at him to tell he was smirking. The facial expression, while not something tangible, was still apparent in his words, and wove itself around his tone of speech. I just made a disgruntled noise in reply, though I did turn to face him. He had arched one eyebrow in a somewhat quizzical manner, his amber eyes containing a moderately interested glint.

"Well, you're looking at me. That's an improvement. Now, come on. You could at least tell me your name. Otherwise, I'll have to find something to refer to you as..."

For some reason, I was slightly scared by this concept. Mainly because Matthew currently appeared relatively... devious, for lack of a better word. And he seemed to know it, too. I shifted in a distinctly uncomfortable way, before grudgingly offering a reply.

"M-my name's Guy Kutolah."

I gritted this out, and then blinked profusely. Where had the stutter come from? I resisted the momentary urge to go bang my head against the wall, and attempted to figure out why my words held a tremble. I could only settle on one reasonable explanation, and that was that I hadn't spoken in such a long time, and thusly wasn't used to the sound of my own voice. Said explanation seemed rather weak, to me, and I pushed the thought away, for later contemplation.

Matthew had caught my momentary lapse, and sat up a little straighter. Thoughtfully, he raked a hand through his already quite tousled hair, once again staring inquisitively at me. However, before he could start asking me another question, I took a turn as interrogator. I was quite grateful that I managed to keep my voice calm, and stutter-free.

"Why are you here, anyways?"

I couldn't quite help the slight amount of contempt that tinged my words, but it was a justifiable question. Because, after all, I didn't want to share a room with a convicted murderer or anything. The quizzical look on my new companions face faded a bit, and, for a split second, his features clouded over, before visibly brightening. I drew my legs upward, shifting into a cross-legged position,and proceeded to invoke a staring match with Matthew. Unblinkingly, he gazed back at me, and seemed rather reluctant to answer my question. Still, I stared, before those knowing amber eyes became too much for me, and I turned away with a derisive snort. This, if anything, seemed to pull him from his hesitance to communicate.

"You'll have to find out, I suppose."

I gave a distinctly angry toss of my head, my emerald plait following my motions, and grumbled something at his lack of cooperation. His response hadn't really told me much. Apart, of course, from the fact that he was an arrogant jerk... I shot another glare at him, before taking the lull in activity as a chance to glance out the heavily barred window in our room. Dinner had been a few hours ago, and it was already quite dark... Pale moonlight filtered through the window in little slivers, and for a while, I just focused on the small amount of illumination. After a few moments of this, I was staring at nothing in particular, and my eyes slid out of focus.

For the second time tthat day, I blinked profusely, and shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. Without a word, I rolled over, laying down with my back facing Matthew. I hugged my pillow close to my chest in slight frustration, as many, many questions tried to flow over into my train of thought all at once. Forcing myself to calm down, I loosened my grip on my pillow slightly, and obstinately closed my eyes. I /would not/ let Matthew get to me. Of course, knowing that he was still sitting there was kind of disturbing, and I couldn't help but be annoyed by his mere presence. That was it. My eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted, turning once more to the table.

Imagine my surprise when I found that the form of my new room mate had decided to abandon his temporary residence in my chair, in favor of standing next to my bed. I jumped slightly, and, on somewhat of a reflex motion, tossed my pillow at him. Perversely satisfied that the object had collided with the form of my companion, I watched as he simply bent over for a moment, picked up my pillow, and put it back on my bed. He tilted his head, looking rather amused by my childish reaction, but my glaring and scowling seemed to deter him. Matthew took a step back, and then shrugged. I was quite busy wondering what the hell he had been doing standing there, when his voice broke through my ponderings.

"No need to be so touchy."

A cheery grin here, and then he continued on with his words. I gave a low growl in reponse, but even this didn't stop him from speaking.

"If it's alright with you, I'm just going to take this bed over here..."

He gestured vaguely beside him. Out of habit, my eyes followed his motions, and my gaze alighted on the currently vacant bed a few feet from my own. It hadn't been used in quite some time, and the pristine white sheets were unruffled, almost completely devoid of wrinkles. I just inclined my head, as if to say I didn't care, before snatching up my pillow and returning it to its proper position. I heard his nearly silent footsteps, as he wandered away from my bed, and this fact reassured me somewhat.

Still, I had the vague idea that I wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Tugging the covers up from underneath my curled up form, I slipped between the sheets, resting my head on my pillow. Luckily, the wall on the far side of the room was the wall with the window, and I chose that direction to face. Laying on my side, I gazed apathetically at the outside world, as my thoughts drifted off into a moderately detached state. Damnit, why the hell did they stick me with /him? Suddenly, however, something rather frightening ocurred to me. Well, it was frightening to me, at least. Why had they put Matthew in here? Had they tagged me as a hopeless case, and figured that I wouldn't be getting out any time soon, so it didn't matter?

Unconsciously, I suppressed a shiver, and snuggled almost childishly against my pillow. I made a silent vow that I /would/ get out of this accursed place, whatever it took. At that moment, I didn't quite realize that, if I wanted to be released, I would have to act more kindly towards Matthew. No, instead, I contented myself by thinking of ways to annoy my new companion, hopefully to the point where he would be happy to request a different room mate.

...I wouldn't let myself admit that I liked having someone around. I forced myself to think that the lonliness had been better, much better, than having to share a room with this (sort of) stranger. As the light around me slowly dwindled, and the room was steeped in darkness (save for the illumination of the moon coming through the window), I relaxed. It was silent, and only the slow, barely there sounds of Matthew's breathing broke the blessed lack of noise. It took a bit for me to register the fact that Matthew was indeed asleep, and, even then, it didn't mean much to me.

I shifted, still not quite able to nod off. I was calmer, yes, but not necessarily ready to fall asleep. There was still many, many thoughts nagging at my mind, and all of them seemed to have high-pitched, annoying voices. I shoved my face against my pillow, effectively clinging to it. I willed away those irksome annoyances, wiping my mind almost entirely blank, as I found myself in a passive state. My eyes closed once again, and the tiny tendrils of thought still clinging to my consciousness relinquished their grip, allowing me to drift off to sleep peacefully.

Peacefully, pfft, right. I felt a gentle weight pulling on my braid, and the motion seemed almost cautious, and experimental. The feeling pulled me from my drowsing state, andI blearily opened my eyes. For a moment, I was greeted with a lovely view of my pillow, before I rolled over. The weight immediately withdrew from my braid, and I groggily looked up. At that point in time, any sleepiness in me vanished, as my attention focused on the form hovering over my bed.

"What the hell do you want?"

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Question: Do you consider Guy seme, or uke? I think he's gonna end up somewhat seme, in this... o O; HE'S NOT SOME STUTTERING LITTLE UKE, FULES. D: 

'Scuse that. Anyways, review, plzkthxbai. Maybe it'll get the next chapter up faster. o o


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